Loss
by DoctorWhovian18
Summary: Another idea that captured me. On Caradhras, the Fellowship suffers through an avalanche, but not all make it to safety. Sam is lost and believed dead. How does Frodo cope with the loss of his closest friend? Is Sam really gone? Read on to find out. No slash, profanity, or anything else uncomfortable. Mash up of book and movie canon.
1. Chapter 1

**Another plotbunny. They're everywhere today ^_^ This is a bit of a sadder story than my others, but it was an idea that would not go away. I'm not too sure how many chapters this will turn into, but I doubt it will be more than five. Still, I hope you enjoy it ^_^ Reviews, comments, corrections, etc are welcome, as always.**

Frodo trudged drearily along behind Aragorn, fighting his way through the waist-high snow in an attempt to show that he didn't need to be carried again. Aragorn's drink had warmed him briefly after their last stop, but now the cold had crept into his bones again and he shivered constantly. Behind him, he knew, Sam and his cousins were experiencing the same.

There was a faint rumbling sound that could be heard easily amidst the silence of the mountain.

"What was that?" Frodo asked.

"The mountain does not wish us to continue." Boromir stated, as he had several times that day. "I still think we should turn back."

"We can't turn back." Gandalf called back from the front of their troop.

Frodos feet were slowly going numb. He heard Pippin complain loudly and there was a pause as the young hobbit was lifted into Boromir's arms. However, it only made Frodo more determined not to be carried.

Sam sighed, as though reading his master's thoughts, but said nothing.

The rumbling sound grew louder.

"We should move faster, lads, I sense an avalanche on its way. We would be wise to be far from here when it falls." Gimli warned them from near the back.

Looking up, Frodo saw the tall figure of Gandalf look down at them all. "You are right. Everyone who can, pick up a hobbit. We need to move."

And, just like that, Frodo's determined plan was dashed. Gandalf himself came and gently picked him up, while Aragorn took Sam and Legolas, Merry. He couldn't deny that their going was faster without the four pairs of short legs slowing them down, but he did feel rather embarrassed.

The noise of the moving snow was now so loud that Frodo looked up, expecting the mountain to come crashing down on them as they walked. Everyone picked up the pace as best as they could, but the going was still slower than anyone would have liked. Nervousness twisted Frodo's stomach.

"Run!" Gimli yelled, having clearly spotted something. Everyone looked up and saw that, indeed, a huge mass of snow and ice was tumbling towards them down the steep side of the mountain.

Running didn't help, as it only made them trip, especially those with hobbits. Gandalf's long legs meant that he reached the safety of an overhanging area long before the rest, followed swiftly by Legolas and Boromir. Gimli, too, struggled towards them, using his axe to carve a pathway. The snow had already hit where they had all been standing mere moments ago. However, Aragorn and Sam had fallen into a hidden pit.

Frodo pushed himself from Gandalf's tight hold, intending to go and rescue them, but was grabbed back. Aragorn got to his feet and tried to pull Sam to his own, but was too late. The snow hit them.

"No!" Frodo screamed, hearing the others cry out as well.

The rush of snow seemed endless. It rolled and fell past them off the edge of the mountain, blocking any attempt to look for Sam or Aragorn.

Those few minutes were some of the longest in Frodo's life. He scarcely breathed. Then, eventually, it slowed…and stopped.

Aragorn stood up, covered in snow but otherwise unharmed, from behind a rock. He had been lucky to find shelter. Frodo breathed a sigh of relief and walked forth, ready to greet him and Sam, who must surely be about to get to his feet as well.

Aragorn met Frodo's eyes. There was sorrow in them, and guilt. Slowly, he shook his head.

To Frodo, it felt as though the world tipped upside down. He felt very cold, then very hot, then very dizzy. All he could do was stare, eyes wide with the shock, as Aragorn approached the Fellowship…no hobbit in tow.

Frodo's knees hit the ground. He refused to accept it. Sam couldn't be gone. He couldn't be. He must be buried under the snow somewhere.

But he couldn't find the will to get up and look.

Aragorn's voice reached his ears through a cloud; he struggled to make them out. "I tried to hold him, I really did, but the avalanche was too strong. It ripped him from my arms. I saw him go over the edge."

Frodo shook his head. "No…no!"

Aragorn's arms closed around him, but he was the last person Frodo wanted comforting from. Angrily, he pushed the arms away as feeling returned and got back up off the ground. "Legolas, go and see how far down it is. He might be injured, we might be able to reach him with some rope."

Legolas shot him a sad look, but did so. A moment later, he returned. "I can see another ledge further down, but it is nearly a thousand metres down. And all that I can see there is snow. I am sorry, little one, he is lost."

Frodo continued to deny it and spent the next hour getting everyone to search under the snow and even lowered one of them down towards the ledge, but their rope wasn't long enough. Finally, defeated, Frodo retreated as far into the overhanging area as he could, curled into a ball…and wept.

He wouldn't let anyone approach him for hours. Anyone who tried would be either snapped at, slapped away or greeted with Frodo curling in on himself even tighter. The tears had long since dried out, to be replaced with a blank nothingness that contained a dull, aching pain.

His best friend. Sam had been there from the start. Frodo had babysitted Sam during trips to Bag End, then once Bilbo had adopted him, the two had become fast friends. Sam, even as a toddler, had begun to look out for Frodo, which he always used to find amusing. When the two got older and Frodo entered more into the terrible tween years, Sam would often be found trailing after Frodo, keeping an eye out for him.

And since leaving the Shire, Sam – even more than Merry and Pippin – had been the rock, the connection with home. From his endless supply of recipes that produced wonderful meals with even the most meagre of rations, to his comforting voice whenever Frodo would slip into a daze of thoughts about the Ring, Sam had been there.

And now he was gone.

He knew the others were grieving as well. Merry and Pippin had been the most insistent to try and rouse him, but even for them, he could not move. And so the day drifted into night. Frodo felt no hunger, but soon the exhaustion that followed an emotional outburst fell over him. He turned towards the warmth of the small fire that Gandalf had lit, and gratefully slipped into dreamworld. At least there, Sam was still alive.

 **So sad, I know, and I apologise for any feels this may have conjured. I'm not sure when I'll publish chapter two. The urge to write could strike at any time, anywhere, so I'll have to wait and see :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 is here. Warning for feels and mentions of suicide. I am not responsible for any emotions this chapter may invoke...well, maybe I am ^_^ Review, favourite, follow and, most of all, enjoy!**

Freezing.

That was the first sensation to greet Sam as he returned to consciousness. His whole body was freezing, and his toes, fingers, ears and nose were numb. There was a heavy weight pushing down on him, and, after wriggling around a bit, he worked out that he was buried under a decent amount of snow.

He should have held on to Strider with a firmer grip. He was a fool, thinking that Strider had him. The avalanche had proved too strong. But he could chastise himself later. First, he had to get out of the snow before the rest of his body froze. He moved as much as he could, displacing tiny particles of snow at a time. In a shorter time than he expected, his arm broke through the barrier and reached out into the empty, cold air. He knew there would be no-one to pull him out; he had fallen very far with the avalanche.

As he pulled the rest of his body out and lay on the surface for a moment, panting hard from the effort, the horrific realisation hit him that everyone probably thought he was dead.

Including Mr Frodo.

A jolt of worry shot through Sam at that thought, for he knew that Frodo would be the most worried. Sitting up, he examined his toes and hands. Sure enough, they were blue-tinged; a clear sign of frostbite. His Gaffer's advice for such an affliction was summoned to the forefront of his mind, for even though it was rare in the Shire, it was not unheard of. First things first: if any part of you was numb, rub it harshly until you get feeling back.

So, starting with his fingers, Sam did so as he most certainly wanted to keep those. Then he worked on his toes, ears and nose. It felt like tiny knives were stabbing into each body part as he vigorously massaged them, but it was worth it, he knew, in the long run. By the time he was done, it had gotten darker.

He looked up. Only then did it occur to him to call out.

"Hey! Are you still up there!" He yelled as loudly as he could. But either the Fellowship had long since moved on, or the faint wind that had started up took his words before they reached the next ledge. "Well, then, Samwise Gamgee." He said to himself sternly. "No use sittin' around here. There's gotta be a way up."

But after almost an hour of searching, made all the more difficult by the fact that the ledge he had fallen onto faded away to a sheer drop several metres in either direction, he came up empty handed. Moving helped to ward off the chill, but he was still shivering madly by the time he stopped.

He tried to think rationally. Food, he had plenty of. Water, well…he could eat snow. Unfortunately, Aragorn and Boromir carried most of the water. Heat…

All he had was a single blanket. It was a thick blanket, granted, but it wasn't much considering his conditions. His extremities started to feel numb again, so he set to massaging them painfully back into feeling.

He was thankful that he was a sensible hobbit, and hadn't yet panicked too much considering his circumstances, but he could tell that the worry was growing. If everyone had moved on from the place of the avalanche, he had no chance. If they hadn't, he had to wait until the wind let up before calling out to them again. And it didn't look like the wind was getting any better. In fact, it seemed as though a storm was on its way.

Sam coughed a couple of times, rubbing his hands together. He cleared away a patch of snow as close to the mountainside as he could and lay the blanket down, folding it in half so he would have its warmth underneath him as well. He would have to wait the storm out. It was his only option at the moment. Failing that…well, he'd deal with that when it arose.

He ate, then got into his makeshift bed. Only then did the worry truly hit him. He was alone, on Mount Caradhras, in the middle of a growing blizzard. His friends and those he had grudgingly come to trust were beyond his reach. Worry for Frodo also gnawed at his insides, but for the moment the prominent worry was for himself. After all, if he couldn't get rescued, how on Middle-earth would he be able to be there for Frodo?

He didn't know if it was his imagination or not, but it seemed like he could hear faint sobbing, carried down to him on the wind.

* * *

Frodo woke in the night. He could've sworn that he heard Sam's voice calling to him. Lifting his heavy head and looking around, he identified every misshapen lump he could see. To his surprise, he realised that Merry and Pippin were arranged close to him. The Took tween slept fitfully, twitching and muttering incomprehensively. Merry, though silent and still, had a slight frown creasing his forehead. Legolas sat in silent vigil on the edge of the area, resting against a rock.

Aragorn and Gandalf, Frodo could tell, were awake, but pretending to appear asleep. Boromir was turned away from him, so he couldn't tell if the Gondorian was conscious or not. Finally, Gimli sat by the remains of the fire, nodding into his beard.

There was no sign of Sam, but Frodo had been sure. A harsh wind was whistling, chilling him to the bone as soon as he got out of the pile of blankets he didn't even remember getting buried under. Pulling his cloak more tightly around himself, Frodo crept over to where the ledge dropped away down the mountainside.

"Frodo? Where are you going?"

He had been right; Aragorn was awake.

He wouldn't understand. He wouldn't believe him. "To relieve Legolas." He lied.

Aragorn pushed himself up onto one elbow. "Frodo, no-one expects you to take watch tonight. Go back to sleep, or at least go and rest."

Frodo ignored that, continuing his walk towards the edge. Reaching it, he peered over as far as he dared, staring through the snow that was swirled up by the persistent wind, trying to see any dark shape on the ledge below. But it was impossible. If there was anything down there, it was invisible to his eyes. He would have to wait the storm out.

He was probably being ridiculous anyway. Hadn't he learned many years ago that it was best just to let it go, rather than dwelling on false hopes?

A hand suddenly snaked around his waist and yanked him backwards, so that both him and his attacker landed on their behinds in the snow.

"Hey!" Frodo cried out, scrambling to his feet to see who had grabbed him.

Aragorn's eyes were wide as they stared at him, his hands open in surrender. "Frodo, step away from the edge!"

"Huh?" Surprised, he turned to see that he was a couple of feet away from the drop. Frowning, he stepped further away. "Strider, what was that all about? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Aragorn was breathing heavily. He got to his feet slowly, as though afraid of frightening Frodo. "You were going to jump."

Frodo stared at him for a moment in shock. Then he realised that Strider had thought he was going to commit suicide. In any other situation, he would have laughed at the absurdity of the thought. "What? I would never do that! There would be absolutely no point. How could you think…No! I was looking…I thought I heard…" he trailed off, waiting for Aragorn to shake his head sadly and tell him he was imagining things.

Aragorn's expression softened. Without saying a word, he came and wrapped his arms around Frodo. Unlike earlier, Frodo didn't protest. He knew it was not Strider's fault.

The tears fell again, but this time at least there was someone to wipe them away.

 **Of course Frodo wouldn't think of jumping. He may be grieving, but we all know he's too sensible for that. Hope you all enjoyed that chapter, more will be on its way when the story hits me next ^_^**


	3. Chapter 3

**Once again, people are reading this story and not reviewing. I don't expect everyone to review...but something would be nice. Please? Pweety pwease wif a chewy on top? It makes me want to write more, seriously! Anyway, hope all the readers, whether you review or not, enjoy this chapter :)**

Frodo had obediently returned to his bedroll at Aragorn's insistence, but sleep did not reclaim him. Little thought went through his head, only a dull blackness that lasted until the cold light that preceded dawn fell over him. He felt empty. The emotional stage had come and gone, and now all that was left was a dull ache that he could only hope would fade, as the ache left by his parents eventually faded.

He knew that he and the Fellowship had to continue. They had all known, upon setting out from Rivendell, that the risk of fatalities was high. They all accepted that risk, but Frodo wondered whether Sam had truly understood it. He was well aware that his faithful gardener had only joined the Fellowship to accompany him and, had any of the others volunteered to take the Ring, Sam would have been head of the party returning to the Shire.

Then another thought occurred to him; last night, he had lied. Yes, it was only a tiny lie and yes, he had a reason for it…but he had lied. He had never lied in his life. Not even when he had been in trouble as a child. Not to Farmer Maggot, not to anyone. He felt very guilty. He knew that he probably shouldn't, as he knew he would never lie again, but still he felt as though he should apologise to Aragorn.

He waited until everyone had gotten up, including those who hadn't really been asleep. Making a beeline for Aragorn, Frodo tapped him on the back as he was rolling up his bed.

"Yes, Frodo?" Aragorn turned.

Frodo heaved a sigh. "I have to apologise for last night, Strider."

"What for?" Aragorn stared at him.

"For lying. I know I was scared that you would make fun of me for telling you that I heard Sam, but that is no excuse. I shall never utter falsehood again." Frodo said genuinely. To his surprise, Aragorn smiled sadly at him, kneeling down so they were the same height.

"Frodo, you need not be sorry. I have admired you for your honesty since I met you, but I hold no ill feelings towards you for telling me you were taking over for Legolas. However, as I can see that this is important to you, be relieved to know that you are forgiven."

Frodo nodded and looked down, relieved that Aragorn understood.

His words made Frodo think of something else: Legolas had been on duty when he had woken up. Surely the Elf would have heard Sam if the voice was real.

He quickly walked over to him. "Good morning, Legolas. There is something I must ask you."

Legolas spoke before Frodo could tell him what it was. "I know, Frodo, you wish to know if I heard anything at all last night." He sighed. "If I did, I am sure it was only a figment of a sorrowful mind. I implore you to believe the same."

"So you did hear it!" Frodo cried, feeling hope blossom in his chest for the first time since the avalanche.

Legolas closed his eyes, as though in pain. "I did, Frodo, but I know it was not real."

"You do not know." Frodo insisted. He then turned to address the rest, feeling rather daunted as all eyes were aimed at him. "I know we must leave, but before we do it would mean a lot to me if Legolas could be lowered down to the ledge. That is all I will ask, and then I will speak no more of the situation, or of Sam."

He waited for a moment while Aragorn, Gandalf and Legolas shared a look. It was the Wizard who nodded the go ahead, which was another surprise to Frodo, as Gandalf had been strangely quiet since the avalanche.

Aragorn handed one half of the rope he had brought from Rivendell to Legolas, who tied it tightly around his waist. Aragorn then enlisted Boromir and Gimli to help him keep a hold of his end as Legolas walked over to the edge and slowly began to let himself down. Frodo went over as well, leaning out as he had that night, watching Legolas' descent.

Soon, the swirling mists that were the remnants of the night's storm swallowed the Elf, making it appear as though the rope and the person on the end of it disappeared about thirty metres down.

Frodo waited, his breathing frequently getting caught in his throat as his mind whizzed back and forth between the three possibilities facing him: Sam was alive and well, Sam was nowhere to be seen, or Sam was lying on the ledge, dead.

The last thought was the worst, but Frodo knew that it was probably the most likely of the three. Mentally, he tried to steel himself for that realisation. He would stick to his promise and quietly go along with everyone else if either of the last two possibilities were the case.

Then Legolas called up, his clear voice penetrating the mists. The words he spoke struck Frodo hard, the intense relief and shock that they inspired washed over him so fast that he dropped to his knees without even noticing it. His head spun and for a moment he seriously questioned whether he was dreaming or not. Tears grew in his eyes once again in joy.

"The Valor must be watching our company, for Samwise is here, and very much alive!"

Sam had woken several times during the night. He dreamed constantly of various situations in which Frodo tried to get down to reach him on a rope, but fell on the way and was injured, or worse. Once, he woke up yelling his master's name, though the wind still howled and he knew that Frodo would not be able to hear.

Each time he woke, the frostbite had returned, so he would spend several minutes working at the offending body parts again. When he finally did get to a solid, dreamless sleep, it was only for an hour or so before the sun began reflecting off the snow, making it impossible to stay asleep. His head was aching constantly from the cold and, though he ate a decent amount upon waking, he felt slightly ill from the constant worrying that had left his stomach in a tense knot. Additionally, the cough that had begun the previous evening had gotten worse.

Repacking his backpack, he resigned himself to resuming his search for escape. He didn't hold very high hopes, but it was better than sitting around and turning into an ice statue. He hummed to himself while he looked, but, once again, came up empty handed. He had rope, yes, but that would do him no good as his aim was to climb up, not down.

The silence alerted him to the fact that the wind had died down.

Hope was rekindled, for he could now try and be heard by the Fellowship if they were still above.

He opened his mouth and turned skywards, but before he could utter a sound, a most incredible and unbelievable sight appeared. For a moment, he thought it was a ghost, but when Legolas released the rope and stared back at him as though wondering the very same thing, he knew it was real.

"Legolas! As I live and breathe, but if it isn't good to see you!" Sam cried gleefully.

Legolas, eyes wide, chuckled breathily and smiled at him. "And you, Sam, and you." He then looked up and called, "The Valor must be watching our company, for Sam is here, and very much alive!"

There were several faint cries of relief from above, but Sam noticed that he could not hear Frodo. Panic seized him that something had happened to his master, and he approached Legolas.

"Is Frodo alright?"

Legolas' eyes became slightly saddened. "Frodo is fine, Sam, but he has been very grieved at the thought of your passing. It was at his insistence that I was lowered down to you this morning. He will be very relieved to know that you are safe."

"That's good to hear, then. Is that…" Sam was about to ask about the strength of the rope, but was cut off by a fit of coughing harsher than any preceding it. Legolas patted him on the back until Sam could breathe again.

"My friend, you have caught a chill." The Elf said gently. "We must get you back up, where you can be cared for."

"No, no, I'm fine." Sam protested, waving an arm. But Legolas gave him a look that made it clear that he didn't believe him. Sam decided it best not to say a word.

"Here, you go up first and then the rope can be lowered back down to me." He instructed, picking Sam up – pack and all – with ease and tying the rope around his waist, then tugging on it three times.

Slowly but steadily, Sam was pulled back to the Fellowship. Soon he was back on solid ground once again. Before anyone could approach him to untie the rope, Sam was instantly knocked to the floor by a brunette hobbit, followed by two others.

Frodo, half-laughing with joy, half-crying, clung to him as though he'd never let go again, while Merry and Pippin each leaned over him, grinning broadly.

No words were necessary, and Sam felt a warm feeling in his chest to know how much he had been missed. He had always perceived that, though he never doubted Frodo's friendship and loyalty, he cared about his master with a bit more strength than the reverse. However, in that moment, seeing Frodo's face alight as he grinned with relief, Sam knew that they were both each other's best friend.

Sam had never had such a close friend before.

However, the moment was ruined both as Aragorn, also grinning broadly, came to untie the rope and as another coughing fit seized him. The three other hobbits stepped back away from him, identical alarmed expressions on their faces.

"Did you catch a cold, Sam?" Frodo asked immediately. "Strider, Sam's coughing."

Frodo looked so concerned that Sam almost laughed at how their positions were reversed. He pushed himself up. "I'm fine." He said quickly; it just wouldn't feel right if everyone fussed over him. There had been enough of a delay due to him already.

"At least let me check you over, Sam." Aragorn said as Legolas climbed back up via the rope. "It could be pneumonia."

"Don't worry. I'll be fine with a fire tonight, honest." Sam insisted, getting to his feet.

His protests were weakened somewhat when, upon standing, he was struck by a moment of dizziness. He felt very floaty, and the next thing he knew, someone's hands were hard on his shoulders, keeping him upright.

"You're not fine. It's time I repaid some of what you do for me." Frodo murmured.

 **Well, if you can't guess, this is going to turn into some sweet moments where, for once, Frodo gets to take care of Sam. Also, I'd just like to remind everyone that I am against slash, so anything that could be perceived as such in this or any other story is NOT. I'm a Frodo/Sam friendship supporter ONLY. Just wanted to make that clear :) Hope you all enjoyed ^_^**


	4. Chapter 4

**The second to last chapter of Loss! Woohoo :) I hope those who have followed and favourite this story, and those who read without doing so, will not mind that this has taken on a bit of a hurt/comfort theme for Sam. I just really enjoy fics where Frodo actually gets to take care of Sam, instead of the other way around, so I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and the next one, which will be an epilogue. :)**

If it were up to Frodo, they would not have gone any further that day and Sam would have been tended to then and there. However, Aragorn calmly warned him that, everything else besides, Gandalf would be in a right mood the following morning if they made no headway before nightfall.

Frodo realised the foolishness of complaining, so he helped get Sam tied onto Bill, much to Sam's annoyance – "I can walk, Mr Frodo, please!" – and walked along beside the pony whenever possible. Sometimes the hobbits had to be carried again, as the night's storm had left a new layer of snow that reached to the waists of even the taller members of the company. Still, none of the hobbits complained as they knew voicing their annoyance at being carried would only slow them down, and they all wanted Sam to be cared for as soon as possible.

The stubborn Gamgee constantly tried to convince Frodo and Aragorn that he was fine enough to walk, and continue without having to stop. Frodo either flat out ignored him, or told him to be quiet or Frodo himself would fake injury so they could stop. That usually kept Sam quiet for about an hour.

Frodo also noticed that, as the day wore on, Sam slipped briefly in and out of consciousness several times and, though he tried very hard to hide it, clearly had a severe headache. The coughing fits grew worse and more frequent, and still Sam declared himself 'fine'.

"It doesn't feel right for you to be fussing over me, Mr Frodo." He murmured, frowning both form the pain of his headache and at the thoughts obviously rushing through his mind.

"Sam, it would be the exact same if our positions were reversed." Frodo said quickly.

"Yes, of course, but this is different."

Frodo cut him off, turning sharply towards him, allowing his exasperation to enter his voice in anger in the hope that it might finally get the message through. "Samwise Gamgee. I just spent the last twelve hours thinking you were dead. So I don't care what you think you are in relation to the Bagginses, but first and foremost you are my best friend. In fact, if you remember correctly, you were my first friend in Hobbiton. I've known you since you were a _faunt._ As small as you were, you would look after me all the time. Throughout all the scrapes and foolish mistakes of my tweens, you were there to pick me up and even take some of the blame when Bilbo discovered what I'd done." He paused and leaned forwards, staring into Sam's wide, shocked eyes. "So keep quiet, and let me give back some of what you've done for me."

Sam just stared, eyes shimmering with tears. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, before saying in a small voice, "Ok."

Frodo smiled widely, relieved that it had worked. "Good, now get some proper sleep. I'll wake you when we stop."

To his relief, Sam closed his eyes and leaned his head against Bill's neck, which was warm despite the freezing environment. Frodo turned back ahead and continued walking, noticing as he did that Gandalf had been watching them. There was a smirk on the Wizard's face.

A couple of hours later, they were blessed with the discovery of a cave. After Gandalf went inside first to make sure they would be the only occupants, the rest of the Fellowship shuffled in behind him. Merry and Pippin helped Frodo ease the sleeping Sam off Bill, trying hard not to wake him as Sam had always been a light sleeper. Aragorn and Legolas got a fire going and set a pot of snow to melt and boil over it.

Sam was covered in several blankets and left to wake naturally. Frodo wandered over to Aragorn to see if there was anything else he could do.

"There isn't much _to_ do, Frodo." Aragorn said, smiling. "Sam was lucky. He may have mild pneumonia, but nothing that warmth, rest and comfort can't heal."

Frodo felt himself relax, relieved. "That's good to hear. I was worried earlier when he was finding it difficult to stay conscious."

Aragorn nodded. "That is a bit of a concern, but likely as not it is a result of a cold-driven headache and possibly minor shock at being rescued. Do not worry, Frodo, our Samwise will be back on his feet again in no time."

Frodo knew that Aragorn was not sugar-coating it just to alleviate Frodo's worries, as he could see the honesty in the Man's eyes. Turning back to Sam, Frodo again made sure that he was warm, then sat down himself and waited for his friend to wake.

* * *

Sam returned to awareness slowly, at first not realising that he was no longer on Bill. The last thing he remembered was Frodo staring at him like a mother hen, as though he would not look away until Sam had fallen asleep. Dear Frodo, he thought. Surely he did not deserve such a friend.

He was warm for the first time in days, due to being buried under several thick blankets. He opened his eyes slowly, seeing that he was lying in a cave of some sorts. He hoped that they hadn't just stopped for his sake, but deep down he knew that was likely the case. He also knew that Gandalf wouldn't have stopped unless he, too, cared about Sam.

Frodo instantly appeared leaning over him, smiling broadly.

"Good to see you awake." He said.

Sam smiled back, if only because Frodo's grin was infectious. "How long have I been asleep for?"

"A couple of hours." Frodo responded. He reached behind him and held up a cup of something. "Stider says you've got to drink this. It will help your head and throat."

Sam stiffened. He remembered a delirious Frodo complaining loudly at the bitterness of some of the concoctions he was made to drink during his recovery in Rivendell. But as someone unseen helped him sit up, which he didn't really need help to do, Sam could smell the sweet aroma of honey and ginger. Sipping on the tea slowly so as not to burn his mouth, he found that it did help.

"Thank you." Sam said, shifting so that he could unobtrusively show that he could support his own weight. He didn't want any care that was not absolutely necessary. If it were up to him, he would not accept any care at all, but he knew that Frodo would only insist.

He felt strangely weak, but he managed to sit himself up without too many problems. Closing his eyes briefly to alleviate the dizziness that made his head spin, he asked, "Did we cover a good distance today?"

Frodo nodded. "Considering the fact that the snow was a food higher than yesterday, we did. We'll see what it's like tomorrow. Maybe I can convince Gandalf to stay here another day."

"No!" Sam cried instantly. He didn't care what arguments Frodo put forth, he was not letting them waste another whole day on his account. "We leave in the morning."

Frodo glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, a look that Sam knew meant he had annoyed his master. But Frodo kept his voice calm. "To be honest, Sam, Gandalf isn't even sure that we should continue climbing Caradhras anyway. He's starting to agree with Gimli that the mountain will try and thwart us at every turn."

He looked away and Sam followed his gaze to see Gandalf, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas and Gimli in deep conference.

"If you ask me, we should have followed Boromir's advice, it seems the safest route." Merry suddenly said from somewhere to Sam's right. He looked over to see that Frodo's cousin had taken charge of that evening's meal, and breathed a sigh of relief. Out of the three, he would have preferred Frodo cook if he himself wasn't able to, but at least it wasn't Pippin.

The Took was strangely absent.

"Where's Pippin? Sam asked.

"Over there." Merry pointed behind Sam, and he turned to see the tween curled up under a blanket, fast asleep. "It was a long day."

A soft smile grew on Frodo's face as he beheld his cousin. "Ah, Pip. Believe it or not, he is trying not to complain much, but all this walking does tire him out. Anyway, still tired, Sam?"

Sam opened his mouth to answer negative, but at Frodo's stare he looked down and mumbled, "A bit. But I shouldn't be."

"Yes, you should." Frodo replied. "Now rest some more, I'll wake you when supper's ready."

Reluctantly, Sam did so in the hope that it would make him feel better enough that he could convince Frodo that he was fully returned to health.

 **Like it? Don't like it? Please comment your response as a review as I love hearing what people think of my stories. I would like to thank Shirebound and Frodo Baggins of Bag End for putting me in a fluffy, hurt/comfort mood as I've been reading through their vast list of stories. See you next time ^_^**


	5. Chapter 5

**And so, at last, we finish Loss, my first attempt at a fluffy, hurt/comfort fic that was longer than a one-shot. I thank everyone who has supported this story (favourite, followed, reviewed) and those who did not do any of the above but took the tie to read it. This is the last chapter; a short one, but necessary and quite sweet. I hope you all agree. I would like to thank Aria Breuer, Sam and Frodo (yes, I'm thanking the two hobbits, deal with it ^_^) for their ideas and help. Enjoy!**

The following morning brought news that, depending on the individual, was either a hindrance or a help. To Gandalf, and partially Aragorn, it was an immense annoyance and a further delay to their progress. To Sam, it inspired minor frustration – as he had been looking forward to proving his health – but he also saw it as a blessing, for he knew that one more day's rest would do him well. And to Frodo, it was an immense relief.

"I'm afraid that even those of us who are not hobbits would be unable to go more than a few steps in the blizzard." Aragon gravely told them all once a decision had been reached between him, Gandalf, Boromir and Gimli. Legolas sat at the edge of the cave, seemingly untroubled by the chill air from the whirling snow and ice just feet from his still form.

Frodo nodded. "It is wise not to try and struggle pointlessly." He said. Aragorn gave him a look that told Frodo that he knew the true reason behind the hobbit's acceptance of the decision, but didn't comment on it.

Satisfied by the turn of events, Frodo returned to his place next to Sam. He had been heartened to notice that Sam had recovered a lot from the chill that had taken him; the colour had returned to his cheeks and the cough lessened, although Frodo knew that he was not yet fully returned to health.

It seemed as though Sam had slipped into sleep, so Frodo occupied the time until he woke by letting his thoughts wander as he stared out at the maelstrom that covered the cave entrance a hundred metres away.

Unbidden, his thoughts went to the item around his neck. He looked down at it. The Ring had grown slightly heavier with each step he had taken away from Rivendell, so that now it felt less like a Ring of gold than a Ring of lead. Slowly, it occupied his thoughts and a strange sense of drowning fell upon him…drowning in a sea of gold. In a dream, he picked it up and lifted it to eye level, turning it between his fingers and studying it, trying to see some evidence of its evil besides its constant presence at the edge of his mind, for surely something so golden and beautiful could not be entirely maleficent.

The Ring glinted back at him innocently, shimmering unsteadily in the flickering flames of their fire.

"Don't do that." A voice made Frodo jump out of the daze he had fallen into, and he turned to see that Sam had awoken and was staring at him with a look that was half-fearful, half-disapproving.

Frodo allowed the Ring to drop from his hands, making no lie of how relieved he was that Sam had spoken. He didn't know what would have happened otherwise. He looked down at the ground, frowning.

"Why?" he murmured quietly.

"Why what, sir?" Sam asked, pushing himself up so that he was sitting.

"Why me?" Frodo clarified. "Why us? None of us hobbits asked to be involved in anything. Aside from Bilbo's stories, we didn't even know about anything that was going on! Why am I the one who now has to carry this accursed _thing_ across the length of Middle-earth?" His own words surprised him, for it was not his wont to complain. But he felt he could, to Sam at least, and fear no mocking response.

Sam was quiet for a moment, before saying softly, "Begging your pardon, sir, but no one forced you to take the…the Ring…in Rivendell."

Frodo sighed. "No, they didn't. And to this day I still do not know what possessed me when I offered myself." He leaned back on his hands, staring up at the cave roof. Then a thought occurred to him and he chuckled softly. "If we want someone to blame, I'd say it was Bilbo himself. After all, he was the one who found the Ring and kept it all these years."

"And if we want the true person to blame," Sam continued the thought, "I'm pointing my finger at him right now."

Frodo looked to see that Sam was indicating Gandalf. The Wizard stood over near Legolas, leaning down to say something to the Elf. Frodo couldn't help the smile that came across his face.

"True. It was Gandalf who chose Bilbo to go on the adventure in the first place." He agreed.

They both fell silent for several minutes, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Then Sam murmured, "All I know is one thing, Mr Frodo."

"And what's that, Sam?" Frodo asked, smiling at him.

"No matter where you go, I'll be right behind you. Even into the fires of Mount Doom itself." Sam looked down suddenly, slightly pink, but Frodo reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder.

"And I won't let myself go anywhere without you. How I could have ever thought of leaving you in the Shire is beyond me. I'm glad you, more than anyone else, is here, Sam. I know that, even if everyone else is one day gone, I will be unable to feel lonely with you around."

Sam went even redder, but smiled at Frodo.

"Hey, what about us?" Two astonished voices cried in unison, and Frodo looked up to see the irate glares of his two cousins.

"So, we mean nothing, is that right?" Merry demanded.

"We overheard you, don't try to deny it." Pippin also remarked sternly.

Frodo glanced sideways at Sam for support, only to find that the gardener had already broken his promise and was resolutely staring the other way, grinning. Opening his mouth but not knowing what to say, Frodo turned back to Merry and Pippin.

They both held the glares for a second longer. Pippin was the first one to break the tension, throwing himself down next to Frodo and ruffling his hair as though _he_ was the tween.

"We're just messing with you, cousin!" the young Took cried gleefully.

"Of course." Merry agreed, sitting on Pippin's other side. "We both know that we are your favourite cousins."

"More than Bilbo?" Frodo asked doubtfully.

Merry nodded. "Of course, more than Bilbo! Why, would Bilbo Baggins have taught Frodo Baggins how to swim?"

"Would Bilbo have climbed to the top of the apple tree to get the best fruits because Frodo was too big and would have broken the branch?" Pippin added.

Laughing, Frodo embraced the two of them. "A hobbit couldn't ask for better company."

And even in the days that followed, when two among the four hobbits were separated, and then those two separated from each other, they never forgot the other three until their dying days, for the bonds of friendship and family united them, and those are the strongest bonds; ones that are unbreakable by any and all evils.

 **Well, once again I hope everyone enjoyed that. Those of you who know me from The Hobbits go to Hogwarts, I will hopefully be updating that tomorrow. Can't get enough of those hobbits ^_^ Bye, all!**


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